


Breakfast

by asdash



Series: The Stricklake Chronicles [1]
Category: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: F/M, Walter Strickler POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 15:03:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asdash/pseuds/asdash
Summary: A short morning draft from Stricklander's POV.
Relationships: Barbara Lake & Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Series: The Stricklake Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668952
Kudos: 31





	Breakfast

My head is resting against the door frame as I watch her cook. This forty-something year old woman I love so dearly, is struggling to make a simple omelette. Against my better judgement, I decide to stay out of this one and allow her to figure it out on her own, now with Jim gone. One thing was certain however, constructive criticism is a gift and I was not about to pretend I liked something I didn’t, no matter how much I adored her.

“How come you have so much trouble cooking?”, I ask.

She stops for a second, looking at the kitchen counter, expression slightly sad.

“I won’t pry if you don’t- “

“Criticism.”

I lift an eyebrow.

“Criticism?”

“Yes, James Sr. used to criticize me no matter what I did, no matter how I did it. He abhorred my cooking, and never hesitated to make that clear to me, Jim and everyone else at the table.”

That prick. In a way, it’s best he doesn’t live in the same town anymore. Or else…

“He used to yank the cooking pans out of my hands, screaming I can’t cook for shit.”

My hands are around his neck.

“Telling Jim his mother is a good-for-nothing in the kitchen…”

He’s dead to me.

“…or in bed.”

That one is completely untrue.

“Barbara. The words of a charlatan should never dictate your self-worth.”

She looks at me with big eyes.

“He abandoned you and your son without looking back. That says enough about his quality as a person. Doesn’t it?”

She nods slowly, then turns her attention back to the stove.

I walk to the living room and sit myself down. She comes out of the kitchen with two plates and sets them on the table. We start eating.

“So, how does it taste?” she asks.

“Surprisingly good.”

She smiles.

I knew better, but sometimes, deceit is the only option. And for damn sure it was the better one this time.


End file.
